My Clarinet and Where It Has Taken Me
by Emi-Chan1
Summary: After five years of playing the clarinet, I find it amazing how much it's become a part of me ...


~My Clarinet and Where It Has Taken Me~  
  
  
Just so you know, about half of this story has nothing to do with "marching" band, but I really don't care.  
  
  
When I was in the fifth grade, my school started a band. At first, I wasn't going to be in the band because I already had choir and off-and-on piano lessons, so I figured I was well-rounded enough with music.  
  
Our teachers decided that *all* of the fifth graders *had* to take a music aptitude test. It was really easy. It was one of those tape-recorded tests where they play two different notes and ask you which one is higher, and you write down "A" or "B" on a piece of paper. I passed it with flying colors and the band director, Mr. Leavenworth, called my mother and said that he really wanted me to be in band.  
  
There was just one problem. My mother didn't want me to rent a school instrument, but she also didn't want to pay for one. This caused a dilemma, but then, my mother came up with an idea.  
  
When my Grandpa retired, he decided to take up the clarinet, so, being the wealthy person that he was, he bought a really nice clarinet and started to play it. After a while of being in retirement, he got bored and decided to get a job again, leaving the clarinet in his attic, pretty much untouched.  
  
Since my Grandparents were going to visit us anyway (taking the long trip from Arlington, Massechusetts to Grand Rapids, Michigan), my mother arranged for them to take the clarinet along.  
  
So that's when I first became a clarinetist.  
  
During my first year in band, I became a pretty good clarinet player. In fact, I was even first chair for a while when I was the first one to master the register break. By sixth grade, first chair became a regular seat for me, but every once in a while, I was beaten by my best friend, Ericka. That didn't bother me much, anyway.  
  
In seventh grade, Mr. Leavenworth left and the band was taken over by Mr. Gravengoed. Things didn't change all that much, exept for the fact that there were no longer any chairs, which meant that I would no longer be in the "first chair".  
  
Because I went to a very small school, we had a very small band, which meant that there was no division between beginner and advanced. The result: a band that had to play really easy music even though half the people were bored to death with it. One time, we played the "William Tell Overature" and we were playing it so slow that I thought I was going to fall asleep over my music stand.  
  
Eighth grade year brought a welcome change: a clarinet quartet comprised of four of our best clarinetists. We played a song called "A Country Story". It was a lot of fun.  
  
Then I left that school once and for all and moved on to a new school, one with a 100 member marching band. Around the middle of August, I was introduced to band camp. I learned the basics: attnetion, parade rest, forward march, left hase, right hase, about hase, and, oh yeah, the rolling of the feet. I also learned how to play my clarinet while keeping my feet moving to the music and making sure that I get to the right place on the field at the right time.  
  
I thought things would calm down a bit when I was actually in school. I was wrong. We had practices every Tuesday and Thursday from 6:30 to 8:30 to put on top of my two hour choir practices on Monday and Wednesday, not to mention the football games that came about every other Friday and the choir concerts scattered around (usually on Sunday). On top of all of this, I was *still* expected to get my homework in on time. One weekend, I had a football game on Friday, and a choir retreat all day Saturday, followed by a choir concert on Sunday. Needless to say, I had practically no voice the following Monday, but I still had to go to choir.  
  
I breathed a huge sigh of relief once marching season was over, and we headed into concert season. I soon figured out that even though the band was really good at marching, we weren't that great at concert music, or at least they weren't. We ended up having one concert of concert music. It was a disaster. On our first song, "650 East" we had to stop because ... well actually it was because the clarinets missed their cue, and admittedly, I was one of those clarinets. Thankfully, we didn't have to stop again, but we did end up making a few too many mistakes.  
  
The highlight of the year in band was the trip to Holland (Holland, Michigan, that is) for the Holland Tulip Festival followed by a trip to Cedar Point. I pride myself in the fact that I was able to get through the two-and-a-half-mile parade without fainting. Okay, so I admit, I had to stop playing a few times, but all in all, I think it was a success.  
  
At Cedar Point, I went on my first roller coaster ... and my second, and third, and fourth ... well, you get the point. I found out that roller coasters are fun and I have no idea why I was so scared before.  
  
Now I'm out of the ninth grade and going into the tenth. In July, I'm going to Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp for two weeks of nothing but clarinet playing. After that, I'll only have a week before I go back to band camp and start the whole process over again, only this time.  
  
To think that I didn't want to be in band in fifth grade! Now I can't imagine my life without it. It's amazing how such a puny black piece of wood and metal can become such huge part of a person's life. 


End file.
